


Dead By Daylight

by Plania



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: 1978 2018 Timeline, A Lot of the Ships Happen Later I Promise, Dwight Is A Baby, F/M, Gen, How Do I Tag, Not Incest, Not Siblings, Not Siblings Timeline, POV Multiple, Protect Dwight, add tags as i go along
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-09-24 10:19:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17098766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plania/pseuds/Plania
Summary: It's the year of 1978 and it's November 1st. Laurie Strode has just escaped the gruesome night of Halloween at Haddonfield where she lost her two best friends to the deadly Michael Myers. Now, protected by the hospital, she believes she is safe and that her nightmare has ended. However, a terrible evil lurks in the shadows, something far worse than a masked man with a knife. It watches her and it wants her. Oblivious, Laurie is soon to be thrown into a terrible realm of pain, misery, and death.





	1. Screem Queen Enters the Ring

**Author's Note:**

> I have a couple of things to clarify. The first is that I've never played DBD. It feels a bit strange to be writing something about a game I've never played, but I discovered DBD after watching the 2018 Halloween film. I really got into Halloween, so since Michael Myers is in DBD, I found the game. The premise looked really cool, so I read up on it and discovered that there were plenty of things I absolutely adored about the lore and the characters, so I desperately wanted to write something for this fandom. Maybe one day I'll buy the game, although I've heard it's quite buggy? I don't know. If you guys recommend it, maybe I _will_ give it a go!
> 
> The second thing I want to address is the whole Michael/Laurie "Is it incest?" thing. I've only watched the 1978 and 2018 film, so I had absolutely no idea there was a point in time that they were siblings. When I actually did some research on the Halloween franchise, I got a little stressed to find out Michael and Laurie were siblings in the other timelines. Boy, reading up on all those Halloween timelines was confusing as Hell, and I wasn't really sure what timeline I would use. I was leaning towards the 1978/2018, since those are the films I've _actually_ seen, but I was also a little worried since most people seemed to follow the sibling story from the other timelines. I eventually did choose the 1978/2018 timeline because I saw an interview with John Carpenter where he regretted making the of them two siblings as he believed it made Michael Myers less frightening due to the whole family connection thing. He also went on to say it was a dead end plot point, as it meant having to continuously add new family members to replace the ones that had died, like obscure cousins in law, or whatever. I gave it some thought and found that yeah, I kind of agreed with him. That's why I'm going along with the 1978/2018 timeline, although the story is set in 1978 and largely follows the DBD franchise.
> 
> I just thought I'd clarify those two things, since there may be times when I mess up the DBD map and building descriptions. If that's the case, just let me know, since I'm a bit of an accuracy freak. However, if any DBD players out there suddenly encounter some dumb ass survivor staring at walls and exploring buildings without proving much help to the team, it'll probably be me, having succumbed to buying DBD and finally deciding to make my stories accurate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you clicked on this and just saw either the first sentence, or just dribble, it's because I really am a dumb ass and accidentally posted the draft without actually putting the draft in.

**LAURIE**

**She woke with a start, the mix between a scream and a gasp escaping her mouth.** There was a light sheen of sweat covering the entirety of Laurie’s body and she was shaking, as if both hot and cold. Her fingers were curled into the sheets and her eyes opened as wide as she possibly could open them. She had vague visions in the back of her mind of a white mask with two black holes for eyes, the shape of a man lingering in her peripheral although, when she looked, there was no one in the room with her. For a moment, she was rooted to the spot, breathing heavily and trying to recollect her bearings. Of course she was alone. There was no nurse hovering around and Michael Myers couldn’t reach her in the safety of the hospital.

Laurie bent her head down, covering her face with her hands, and tried her best not to cry. Her heart was pounding in her chest, a rapid beating that summarised just how stressed and panicked she was. She couldn’t even remember what she had dreamt, but she had to assume it involved the terrifying nightmares of what had happened on Halloween night. It was now past midnight, signifying the end of October 31st and bringing about the joy of November 1st. Essentially, she could tell herself that all was going fine, that she was now out of the haunting woods. Laurie focused on her breathing for a while, closing her eyes and moving her hands to rub her temples in slow, circular movements.

She jerked her head upwards when she heard a soft knocking at the door. There was a nurse with short, dark brown hair curling around her chin. She wasn’t the same nurse who had introduced herself to Laurie earlier- that woman had been blonde, with bright blue eyes. This woman had dark eyes that were surrounded by shadows in the darkness. She was incredibly pale, almost translucent with the way her uniform threatened to blend in. She was a woman who looked incredibly tired, holding a pile of clothes in her hands.

“Is everything OK?” she asked, her voice somewhat hollow, echoing around the room and bouncing around Laurie’s head.

It took Laurie a moment to process that this woman worked here, that she was obviously not Michael Myers having come to finish the job.

“I think I just had a bad dream,” Laurie murmured, still confused and in a state between sleep and waking.

“You seem to have broken your stitching,” the nurse kept at a safe distance, but her eyes were trained on Laurie’s arm.

It was then that Laurie noticed the sting, rapidly looking at her arm to see a red line had formed on the sleeve of her hospital gown. Pushing it up, she momentarily gagged to see a few stitches had become unwoven, probably from a sudden jerked movement in her sleep. Seeing it made the wound sting, so Laurie hastily averted her gaze and looked at the nurse questioningly, unsure of what to do with herself.

“Come with me,” the woman said. “It would be best to have the doctor stitch you back up as well as have a cast fitted to minimise arm movement. Then perhaps some… Valium… to get you back to sleep.”

Laurie hesitantly stepped out of the bed. For some reason, the way the nurse carried herself, straight backed and tall, was intimidating. Her mouth didn’t curl at the corners and her face was almost expressionless, as if she were a mannequin. Still, she hadn’t attempted to reach Laurie, remaining in the doorway. There was nothing comforting about this woman, but Laurie had to tell herself that that didn’t mean she wasn’t good at her job. Barefoot, the tiles cold beneath her feet, she began to approach the doorway, slow and steady despite the way her heart pounded like a jackhammer. Something was off, but Laurie was struggling to determine what it was.

“You should probably get dressed,” the nurse suddenly thrust the clothes towards Laurie long before she had reached her.

It was almost as if she didn’t want Laurie near her. Alarm bells were ringing loud and proud at this point, but Laurie still neared the nurse enough to take the pile of clothes from her hands. She made a conscious effort not to touch the woman; perhaps she was a germaphobe, or something?

“I’ll give you time to get changed,” the nurse said stiffly, her movements almost mechanical as she turned away and left the room, closing the door behind her.

And then the room was silent.

Laurie could’ve told herself she had imagined the entire exchange, except she was holding the pile of clothes the nurse had given her. A pair of shoes had been balanced on top, shoes that looked identical to a pair of her own. Laurie retreated to the bed once more, laying the clothes down. A pair of jeans and a pale blue shirt, just as she had worn last night. Laurie closed her eyes, rubbed her temples once more, convinced she was imagining things but, when she opened her eyes once more, the clothes were still in front of her. Now something felt sinister.

Breathing in deeply, Laurie undressed, feeling cold, prickly air on her shoulders. She felt even more vulnerable, exposed, and kept glancing at the door, as if the nurse would open it. Given how the woman had been afraid of physical contact, however, that was an unlikely case. Laurie shook out the jeans and pulled them on, feeling cold how they fit perfectly and resembled her other pair so closely, except clean. Even a bra had been supplied, which she wore under the shirt, the same loose blue linen that she had worn on Halloween night. She checked the sleeve, expecting to see the tear from Michael Myers’ knife, but the fabric was unscathed, as if brand new. Laurie was rooted to the spot, relentlessly telling herself that she was imagining all of this. Perhaps she was dreaming and that her nightmare had yet to end?

She slipped her feet into her shoes and approached the room, sweaty palm on the door as she pulled it open. Laurie strongly believed the nurse would be long gone, with no sign of her ever having existed. Instead, however, she was hovering just beside the door, watching the entryway with her endless, dark eyes and taught frown. Laurie almost flinched back, sensing a strange personality from this woman, just from the way she carried herself and how she had previously behaved. Laurie almost felt analysed and wanted to tell the woman that she was going to go back to bed and that she’d wait for her usual nurse, Sandra, to handle the stitching issue. However, she knew that was ridiculous. This woman was a nurse. Laurie _had_ to trust her.

“Please follow me,” she said in that strange, clipped tone, before striding down the hallway swiftly, footsteps almost soundless, creating an obvious distance between herself and Laurie.

“Where are we going?” Laurie asked, slowly following.

“To the doctor,” the nurse replied. “Please be quiet. Other patients are sleeping.”

Laurie swallowed nervously and tried her best to be silent. Her breaths were ragged and fast, the hairs on her arms standing up. The hallway seemed dark and far longer than beforehand. No other nurses or doctors wandered past, which Laurie thought was either strange or pure coincidence. It was night, after all, but that didn’t mean staff were off-duty, right? When the nurse turned around and saw Laurie some metres away in distance, a disgruntled expression appeared on her face.

“Follow me,” an edge of impatience crept into her tone, enough to spook Laurie into quickening her pace.

She followed the nurse into a flight of staircases, where the two of them began to descend down into the darkness. Although the lights should’ve been automatic, none of them turned on, and the exit signs flickered whenever the nurse passed by them. If Laurie had considered this to be a dream beforehand, then she was now _convinced_ that it was. The only other explanation was paranormal, and she didn’t believe in ghosts. The way the woman oddly walked with her hands clasped in front of her, shoulders straight and steps measured to land in equal spaces of time was definitely unnerving, but Laurie felt there was nothing she could do about it.

Laurie hesitated by the Ground Floor’s door as the nurse began to descend into the basement area. She knew that this definitely wasn’t right. Every nerve in her body was begging her to succumb to adrenaline and shoot through the door, yet at the same time, she was rooted to the ground with fear. The nurse radiated a heavy aura of danger, something that Laurie couldn’t explain. There was something about her that really had a bad vibe.

“Aren’t you coming?” she asked quietly, a few steps below Laurie, the darkness concealing most of her form.

“I don’t think that’s the right way,” Laurie heard her own voice wobble as she spoke.

“This is the way to the doctor,” the nurse answered, voice deadpan and eyes searing through Laurie’s soul. “Your arm looks sore.”

Laurie took one step backwards, heart beginning to race. This had to have been an awful nightmare. In no way was she going to be targeted by a mass murderer and then a psychopath in the hospital all in the space of eight hours. She felt behind her, feeling for the handle and wobbling it with sweaty, clumsy hands.

“Laurie Strode,” the nurse rasped from the darkness.

A small gasp of terror escaped her lips, but the feeling of the handle turning without her own moving it panicked her. Laurie spun around just as the door opened to reveal another nurse. Her nametag read ‘Kathleen’ and she looked far more friendly with her caramel hair and soft brown eyes. This nurse only needed to take a glance between Laurie and the shadowy figure standing on the staircase for warning signs to go ringing in her head.

“What’s going on here?” she demanded, just as a jet-black rope skimmed past Laurie’s elbow and speared her through the chest.

Laurie shrieked, staggering away from Kathleen, who was lifted upwards, blood trickling from the corners of her mouth as she grasped at the long, black spear. It was unlike anything Laurie had ever seen, like a claw, a hook, a black _thing_ that clearly wasn’t human. This had to be a nightmare. There was no way that Laurie was truly experiencing this. The object retracted, letting the nurse’s body hit the floor with a thud. A clean hole had been pierced through her chest to her back and it didn’t take long for blood to stain her clothes in a shadowy pool surrounding her body.

Speechless, Laurie turned, feeling the air cool down in the stairwell. She looked into the shadows, trying to discern the strange nurse from the darkness, but she wasn’t within view.

“Hello?” she called out, wrapping her arms tightly around herself, eyes scanning all directions to find the strange woman.

She received no response.

Laurie stood rooted to the spot for a moment, goose bumps forming all over her body. She was visibly shivering, wondering who she could find to tell about what she had just seen. That was, if the events she had just witnessed had actually happened. Laurie bent down beside Kathleen’s body and checked her pulse. Nothing. If this was reality, then this woman was actually dead. Laurie glanced back towards the darkness. She absolutely wasn’t going down there. It was equally unnerving hearing nothing. Laurie hated silence.

When she rose to her full height and looked down the hallway, her heart stopped. She _had_ to be dreaming, for standing at the end of the hallway was none other than Michael Myers. He wasn’t looking at her, facing to the side, as if looking at someone or something else. Laurie held her breath, staring and unable to react. How had he found her? _Why_ had he found her? How had Michael known to track her down at Haddonfield Hospital? How had he gained access without someone stopping him?

Slowly, Michael turned his head and stared straight at her. The white mask was as expressionless as she recalled, the blank eyes cut out of the mask and the mouth set at a deep, straight line. His arms hung limp at either side, but she could see the gleam of the kitchen knife in one of his hands, the same knife he had used to murder her friends. Her lungs cried for air, but Laurie was too scared to move or breathe. She was caught in an unwanted staring contest with her stalker, neither of them making a move. Laurie was afraid that a single twitch of one muscle would be enough for him to make a beeline straight towards her.

Eventually, one of them had to break. Angling his body towards her, Michael began approaching, a slow, measure walk, as if he weren’t in a rush. The slow movement was enough to make Laurie realise that, if this were a nightmare, she would’ve woken up by now. She dashed backwards, slamming the door shut with a resounding echo. She was in a blind panic as she raced towards the stairway. To think she would seal herself behind a closed door with a paranormal monster rather than face Michael Myers… Laurie leapt up two stairs, just as something wrapped around her ankle.

“No,” she wailed in protest, turning around in preparation to hit Michael Myers, only to see a black _thing_ wrapped around her ankle.

Without warning, she was whipped off of her feet, immediately winded against the stairs. She was dragged down by a force that definitely wasn’t human. Laurie screamed, twisting her body to try and grab the stairs, but instead just bit her tongue as she was hauled down into the darkness. Laurie spat blood, struggling and clawing at the thing pulling her along. It was pitch black, the lights refusing to turn on, and it was seemingly impossible to harm the thing that was pulling her to God knew where. An exit sign in the distance was the only source, giving a vague view of shelves. Laurie blindly reached out, grasping onto something glass, a jar, perhaps. She smashed it against the ground, hearing glass shatter and crunch and small skittering noises of possibly pills rolling across the floor.

Folding in on herself, Laurie struck at the black limb that was wrapped around her. A noise like a shriek, a cry, a screech, something _inhuman_ and _terrible_ resonated throughout the basement, and the grip loosened enough for Laurie to break free and dash away into the darkness. She threw herself down to the ground, crawling behind crates, gripping the shard of glass tight enough to feel it bite into her skin. She tried to slow and quiet her breaths, fear tugging at her heart and her body feeling icy cold as she hunched behind the crates, her only source of protection.

In the distance, she heard the door open, accompanied by footsteps. _Michael_. Laurie clamped a hand to her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. There was a momentary pause in the steps and she could envision him calmly glancing around, before the footsteps continued, growing louder and nearer with each step. Laurie could feel tears budding at her eyes, but she had to prevent herself crying. Any noise and she would either become a target to Michael or the thing that lurked in the darkness. Ultimately, her best chance was to run up the stairs and leave, letting the thing and Michael deal with one another, but she had to be careful.

Laurie let herself stand, keeping close to the boxes as she peered round and saw Michael Myers’ silhouette nearby the stairs. Now that he was closer, she was reminded just how big a guy he was, broad shoulders and tall, frightening physique. He could probably break her neck with little effort. How was she supposed to reach the door when he was standing right in front of her escape route?

Someone grabbed her from behind and Laurie almost screamed if they hadn’t blocked her mouth in time. Still, there was a muffled cry and scuffles as she strained against their hold. With an iron grip, the person dragged her through the maze of boxes, holding her close before ducking down into the darkest depths, bringing Laurie with them. It was so dim and dark that Laurie could barely distinguish anything, but Michael’s footsteps were now impossibly close and she was near to losing it. Turning her head to see who had her, she could just about make out the features of the nurse. There was something wrong, though; of course, it was dark and difficult to tell if what she was seeing was right, but Laurie thought that her face sagged, as if not quite attached to her face, and there were two, black pits where her eyes should’ve been.

Something cold and sharp pricked Laurie’s arm. She looked down in alarm, seeing the shine of a needle and a cooling sensation as something was pushed into her bloodstream. Laurie’s heartbeats momentarily doubled in a rush of panic, but quickly subsided as the feeling in her limbs rapidly left. Laurie couldn’t hold up her head anymore and slumped uselessly against the nurse, who’s cold body was rigid like a corpse’s. Laurie became flimsy quickly, the world around her melting into darkness, the pounding of her heart in her ears and then- perfect silence.

When she woke up, Laurie was beside a fire. She knew that was the case because it was suddenly very warm and a soft crackling could be heard from nearby. Although she felt tired and a little stiff, there was nothing she could say that was particularly wrong, save the slight sting of the slash on her arm. There were a few bruises on her body, too, which probably explained the slight aches. Pulling herself out of her reverie, Laurie threw herself into a seated position, recalling the events that had just happened: the nurse, Michael Myers, and the monstrous being in the hospital’s underground storage facilities.

But… Laurie suddenly realised she was no longer in the hospital. She was surrounded by darkness, save the orange glow of the fire, with a gaping, haunting forest surrounding her. Wherever she was, it certainly wasn’t Haddonfield Hospital.

There was even a chance she was no longer in Haddonfield.


	2. The "True" Bogeyman?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep watching these YouTube videos of terrifying true life stories and I'm just going to end up giving myself a heart attack. I really like Mr Nightmare's channel, so if you want a bit of spooks, I suggest going there.

**LAURIE**

**Laurie sat upright and stared all around her.** The only thing she could see was trees, their trunks thin and lonely, greyish brown in the minimal light she had. Laurie had never felt so alone than in this moment, suddenly aware of how nobody else was around. At least in the hospital she’d had the option to run and find a member of staff she could’ve ran to, whereas here, there was no one. She was alone, vulnerable to whatever creatures lurked in the darkness. Was that strange, black creature still around? What about the nurse? Michael Myers? How she had ended up here was a mystery to her, but Laurie would only find her way home if she moved away from the fire.

She was about to set off when she noticed a small, wooden box sitting beside a log that had been set up near the fire. It was like an abandoned campsite, except there were no tents left behind. She knelt before the small item and pushed it open, seeing a red, first aid kit gleaming at her. Laurie felt her brows furrow. Of all the things she had expected to find in here, this wasn’t one of them. She carefully reached out, lifting the kit and popping it open. There were around ten granola bars inside, salve for burns, antiseptic cream, gauze bandaging and a pair of scissors. She didn’t see the harm in using it, since nobody else was around. Laurie rolled up her sleeves and daubed some cream onto her wound. She then cut a strip from the gauze and wrapped it around her arm, tying a neat knot to hold it in place. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. She closed the kit and attached it to her jeans before rising to her feet.

It was an understatement to say she was panicking. Although she was bottling it in, Laurie could feel her heart racing in her chest, a tight constricted feeling that made it difficult to breathe. There were no clues or signs as to where she might be, so Laurie decided to spend more time looking around to search for clues. If she could pinpoint her whereabouts, there was a possibility she could hitchhike her way back to Haddonfield, depending on how far she was.

Branches and leaves crunched underfoot, with Laurie making a careful route through the dark forest. She didn’t want to say she was unnerved, but she was sweating once more despite how cold it was. A brittle wind hissed past the thin trunks, disturbing leaves and whispering through Laurie’s hair. She absolutely hated this. Without anyone to keep her comforted, the forest was a terrifying place. She tried to imagine it in the morning, but nothing was coming to mind. This definitely wasn’t Haddonfield’s nearby woods, since Laurie had spent so much time there in her childhood that she would certainly remember the landmarks within it. Moreover, nobody camped in Haddonfield’s woods. There wasn’t any reason to do so.

Everywhere looked the same. It was difficult to tell which direction she was headed, but she tried to walk in a straight line. If she kept going, then it was possible she would reach the mouth of the woods and make her escape from there. Laurie could only assume that the strange nurse had dragged her out to this rural area. Wherever the bizarre woman had gone, she wasn’t nearby now and Laurie couldn’t hear anyone following her. She was certain at this point that she wasn’t dreaming, but that this was actually happening. Laurie wasn’t sure where the nearest payphone was, but she didn’t have money anyway. If she could find a main road, she was sure she could be back at home in Haddonfield in no time.

Every time a branch crunched, Laurie jumped, even if it was just one she had stepped on. She was on red alert, especially as she was effectively blind. Without the ability to see anything, she admittedly frightened. What if someone _was_ following her and she was none the wiser? She had to rely on her hearing, since everything else was dark and a blur. The medical kit swung around at her hip, a constant reminder that she was in actual danger. It was a re-enactment of Halloween night all over again, except this time, Michael Myers wasn’t the adversary.

Had he been there in the hospital? It was difficult for Laurie to say. She had such a fragile psychosis at this point that she could’ve easily imagined him and fallen trap to the monster from her own irrational fears. She tried to remember if she had heard his heavy breaths, but couldn’t remember. Everything seemed so fractured in her head that Laurie wasn’t sure whether any of this was real. What if this was all her imagination?

_No_ , she scolded herself. She couldn’t possibly let herself fall prey to convincing herself that none of this was real. This _had_ to have been real. She was too busy debating with herself on whether this was real or not that she took a while to notice the lights in the distance. There was a lantern swinging in the distance, lit by an actual flame. It was swinging in the breeze and Laurie felt a determination to find her way back home to Haddonfield. She was looking at an old, dilapidated building that had definitely seen better days.

There were large, paned windows, giving Laurie the impression of a warehouse of some kind. The door had rotted and fallen off its hinges, discarded in a heap on the floor. She wandered inside and saw crates piled on top of one another. It was a storehouse, for sure. It was also a little warmer indoors, despite the broken windows and lack of a door. The walls provided some protection from the harsh winds. Laurie’s footsteps sounded alarmingly loud as she walked through the storehouse, breathing loud as she wandered past crate after crate. She wondered briefly what was stored in them, but there was no way of opening them, since they were sealed shut and piled on top of each other, stacked like Legos.

Laurie paused on the spot when she noticed a machine that looked as if it was working, but a little battered and broken. She approached, taking in an aerial reaching skywards. Laurie traced her fingers along the dials with pipes and gears protruding from its frame. It was a generator of some kind, although Laurie couldn’t imagine what it powered, nor how to fix it, or if it was even worth her time. There was a latch, which she flicked, and opened the door to look inside. There were gears and wires, a confusing mish-mash that Laurie wasn’t sure how to work. There was a slight humming, an electrical noise that Laurie didn’t like the sound of. She didn’t want to risk touching it, for fear that she would get electrocuted. Instead, she closed the door and let the latch drop in front of it once more, rising to her feet and looking all around her.

She felt as if she were on some sort of morbid TV show, with cameras watching her every movement. That was it: Laurie felt as if she were being watched. She couldn’t see anyone, though, nor could she hear them. She knew she was alone, but the darkness made her feel like she had company. If only she had a flashlight, then she would be able to guide her way around the storehouse properly. As it was, though, she had to rely on the minimal lighting and sift through the gloom to find something of use.

There was nobody here and she doubted that anyone had worked here for quite a few years. There was a lost sense of abandonment about this place, an isolation that could only have developed over a course of twenty or so years. It was overgrown and dusty, unused and on the course of collapse. In the next ten years, Laurie doubted this building would remain properly standing. There was even a chance it would become a hideout for bored high schoolers if it was near enough to a town or city. Whatever the story of this place was, there was no one here who could help Laurie. She would have better luck looking elsewhere.

She wandered back onto the storehouse’s porch, standing beneath the light and surveying the grounds outside that had been littered with old crates and debris that hadn’t been suitable to dump into the storehouse. It was incredibly lonely being in such a vast space without any signs of life. Laurie tried to calm herself enough to stop shivering, but she was on edge and it was cold. She was terrified that the eerie nurse or Michael Myers would emerge from the darkness and attack her. She knew that was dumb; neither of them were within sight. Paranoia was doing a lot of the talking.

An idea formulated in Laurie’s head. She jumped down into the space of trash, finding the nearest crate and attempting to move it. It was solid and heavy and, when she managed to pop it open a fraction, was filled to the rim with coal. She let it shut, before finding a smaller box and dragging it along. She couldn’t get this one to open, but with sweating and straining, Laurie was able to drag the small box beneath the lantern. Climbing on top, she unhooked the lantern and held it out towards the dump heap. It was a gaslit lamp, so could burn out at any given moment. Laurie didn’t have the oil to replace it, so only had to hope it would last long enough until the morning. On the bright side, it was warm, and filled Laurie with a small comfort of hope.

She stepped down from the porch, holding the lamp out across the littered grounds, making her way carefully along. The trees rustled in the distance, solemn and just as lonely as Laurie felt. She bumped her toe on a stick, pushing it against something metal. A loud snap echoed through the air. Laurie jumped out of her skin, swinging the lamp in the noise’s direction. It shook violently, but Laurie could see a bear trap snapped shut, stick splintered. That could’ve been the bone of her ankle.

“What the fuck?” Laurie murmured to herself and made a mental note to check where she placed her feet from now on.

Her breaths were heavy as she stood there, trying to rationalise what she was seeing, as well as calm herself down. It looked relatively new and, when she crouched beside it, the beartrap wasn’t rusted like other pieces of metal in the area were. This was a recent addition to this area. Were there bears in the area? If so, she would have to be _extra_ careful of the wildlife in the vicinity. The alternative was chilling. The thought that these were lying around, waiting to catch _someone_ , sent a cold shiver running through Laurie’s body. If the latter was the case, then Laurie wasn’t sure whether she wanted to find whoever lived or owned this place.

She was holding the light and thought she saw movement in the distance. Laurie extending the lamp in the direction, but couldn’t see anyone looking back at her, or hiding. There was silence all around. She had to assume her eyes were playing tricks on her now that she was afraid.

“Hello?” she called out, knowing she was dumb for doing so, but worried about the possible presence of someone being out there, watching her, _following_ her.

Laurie lowered the lamp once more, skin prickling, before she began to make her way through the piles of garbage just left strewn across the ground. There was definitely something not quite right about this place. Laurie could safely assume that, if the paranormal truly did exist, then this place would be riddled with ghosts and the like. Some part of her wanted to point paranormal investigators in this direction. Laurie made a slow, careful journey through the heaps of crates and junk. The lantern was her only form of comfort, a small warm flicker in a mass of darkness. She still had the feeling of being watched, but Laurie wasn’t sure if there was anything she could do about it.

She inhaled deeply before moving further away from the woods, through the miniature maze of scrap. She kept a look out for more bear traps laid across the ground, but she didn’t seem to encounter any more. The isolated feeling that swirled around her mind was growing in strength and was near overwhelming, a pressing weight on her shoulders that refused to go. No matter how many times her boots crunched on sticks and leaves and stones and shards of metal, she always jumped and searched her perimeter, just to make absolute sure that nobody was following her. Every time, she received nothing. She truly was alone, although her paranoia was making that difficult to accept.

Laurie paused when she saw something rising on the horizon. Striding forwards with a newfound determination, she only slowed down in hesitation when she saw a large tower, leaning ever so slightly to one side, jutting from the earth’s surface. It looked like something from an old movie, rough blocks put together to assemble such a structure. She felt cold just from looking at it, and the thought of going near it made her stomach turn. What if the wooden support beams, for she highly doubted this was made of concrete supports, collapsed from rot whilst she was inside? Of course, she wasn’t entirely sure what the tower could hold, but if she could use it as a vantage point, then it would be possible to locate a possible escape route.

As she neared, Laurie could see plaster had fallen away from the wall, only to be boarded up. A large, grimy window covered the front of the tower, and a rickety set of metal stairs climbed along the side of the building like ivy. Nothing about this place promised safety, but Laurie found herself pushing open the door and wandering into a murky tower whose ceiling rose high above her head. There were crates filled with coal, a storage unlike any Laurie had ever seen before. Although the tower had fallen into shambles, its wealth had been left behind. It was becoming gradually clear to Laurie that, with the masses of coal, that this was a mining site. A small mechanic crane that was more rust than metal sat to one side, its hook shaking under the breeze and swinging softly, unused and forgotten. Once upon a time, someone would’ve sat at the controls and lifted heavy crates of coal for ease of transportation. To see the place so decrepit saddened Laurie, for she would only ever be able to envision the grandeur the place had once perhaps possessed.

There was a set of stairs at the back of the room, floorboards creaking underfoot and the potential of collapse. Laurie stared upwards, seeing only murk and gloom above. She treaded carefully, feeling each groan vibrate through her body, her heart racing like never before. The lantern in her hands shook, light dancing all around her, casting the strangest of shadows. There were times when she flinched, imaging something beyond the darkness, only to find that, when she swung the lamp in her feared direction, that her imagination was turning emptiness into malicious entities. She tried to peer through the dirty window at the front of the tower, but it was covered in filth and, when she tried to wipe it away, only smudged the glass’ smooth surface. It left a dark smudge on her fingers, which Laurie distastefully wiped on her jeans. She wandered further along, seeing an open doorway where the wind howled through.

Laurie stepped out onto a metal platform attached to the side of the tower. She remembered seeing it outside, only now she was standing, looking out across a wide expanse of land. She saw the forest that curved around the back of the tower and, in the far distance, the storehouse. Further away in the storehouse was a tangled mess of buildings that Laurie struggled to discern. However, what caught her interest the most was what looked to be a large estate house in the far distance. It could’ve been a small shed for all she knew, but from the distance it stood on a sloped hill, Laurie had to assume that it was large building.

A loud clang of a bell rang out across the grounds, echoing along the window. Laurie almost leapt over the railing in terror, but cursed herself quietly to stand still and look all around. There was no sign of anyone carrying a bell, nor any bells on the tower walls that had perhaps been nudged too far by the wind. Laurie didn’t want to believe she had imagined such a unique sound, but there were plenty of explanations for the sound that were far more benign than the thought of Michael Myers carrying it in a persistent chase. Bells didn’t seem like his theme, either way. Laurie had to assume the bell was out of sight, but within hearing range.

She cast her attention back to the grounds, looking towards the estate house. She planned to head straight here and find a potential phone to contact the authorities. Laurie had no clue as to where she was, but if she could somehow describe her surroundings to the police, there was a chance they would be able to locate her. She just had to hope that the phones in the house were still working. Moreover, Laurie had to hope that people still lived there.

Laurie carefully clanked her way down the metal stairs on the side of the building. Whenever the wind harshly blew, the tower creaked, as if threatening to collapse on its side at any given moment. It greatly unnerved Laurie, who just wanted to get as far away from the tower as possible. She raised the lamp as she reached the bottom of the stairs, just as she heard the sound of the bell, much further at this point. Laurie rapidly turned her head in the direction of the noise and, in the distance, saw a figure standing in the mist.

It was tall and thin, standing at a slight hunch, and seemed to be carrying some kind of staff in one hand. In the other, the squared shape of the bell was held. Laurie hesitated, holding her lamp, and felt herself shaking. For some reason, looking at this strange form, Laurie felt incredibly unsafe. She also felt incredibly cold, which was topped with a sudden chill when the figure turned and seemed to stare at her. She couldn’t see their face, but the angle of the body and the way they held themselves told Laurie that she was now being watched. At first, all she could do was stare, mesmerised in a mixture of intrigue and fear. Who was this person? They didn’t stand like Michael Myers and they were too tall to be the nurse. Was this someone who lived in this area, who could possibly take her to the estate house? Or was this the same person who had set up a bear trap in a space where a bear was unlikely to tread? It was for those reasons that Laurie didn’t dare approach the figure.

But the figure began to move towards her. Laurie backed into the wall of the tower, the lamp clinking against the wood in her hand. She glanced at the flickering flame, an orange comfort, and followed her instinct to dash around the side of the building and into the coal tower. She was about to throw herself behind a stack of crates, before she halted to a stop. The light would give her away in a heartbeat. She couldn’t hide whilst holding the lamp. She deposited it on the nearest crate before throwing herself down in a dark corner and pressing herself against the wood, breathing as quietly as possible. She was shaking out of pure fear as she heard the lightest of footsteps that couldn’t possibly belong to the large figure she had seen. Mustering up as much quiet as she possibly could, Laurie peered round the side of the crate, towards the flickering light in the distance.

She could see the figure silhouetted against the light, far taller than they had seemed in the distance. They were incredibly thin, bordering emaciated, with bare feet and slim legs wrapped in bandages that covered any wounds hidden from sight. A ragged cloak hung from their shoulders. Their arms and head seemed to flicker gently, very similar to smoke rising slowly from their skin, which Laurie tried to tell herself was the heat from the lamp. Against the glow, she could now see the staff this man held, for they were not a woman; it a full spine, with a human skull at the top. Just looking at it turned the blood in her veins to ice. The bell turned out of the be a skull, shaped with metal to make it ring. Already she was seeing two dead people, a grim reminder of Halloween night when death had surrounded her.

The man turned his head ever so slightly, and Laurie shrank back behind the crate just a fraction. He raised his head slightly, before turning towards her direction, not quite looking at her, but revealing a face that didn’t belong to a living man. His skin was an incredibly dark grey, weathered and cracked, the stages of decay having been seemingly frozen in time. The most haunting part of his features, however, were his eyes. Two, bright lights seem to glow from his face, piercing white orbs that scanned for her, slow and steady. This man was searching for her, that was evident enough, and Laurie was well aware he would hurt her if he found her.

She let herself melt into the shadows, clinging to herself as she silently questioned herself on her next actions. There was no immediate escape, since she couldn’t climb over the crates in time and the only other route was past the man. Staying in the same spot for hours wasn’t an option. If her lamp was in this room, it was likely the man would assume she was still here, too. She squeezed her eyes shut, clasping her hands together in a prayer that he would leave, that she would be able to creep out behind his back and make her way to the estate house in the distance.

Instead, however, she heard his footsteps. They were grower louder, gradually louder, as the man in rags began to slowly make his way towards her hiding spot.


	3. Deck the Nerd with Fists of Iron, Tra La La La La!

** LAURIE **

**Laurie held both hands over her mouth and stared into space, heart racing at an unnatural pace.** If she didn’t have a heart attack now, she was probably going to be fine for the rest of her life. The man in rags was slowly approaching the spot where she was crouched, so she just squeezed her eyes shut and stayed as still as possible. One wrong movement would make enough noise to get her killed. A hand closed around the crate, just inches from her head. Laurie bit her lip, unable to look away as the man leant over the crate and surveyed the space in front. Had Laurie been sitting elsewhere, he would’ve immediately spotted her. As it happened, there was a small window between the present moment and from when he moved around the crate and looked properly.

She didn’t hear anything, but there must’ve been a sound of some kind, as the man suddenly snapped his head in the opposite direction, looking over his shoulder. He moved away, and Laurie peered back round the crate, desperate to see if he was truly leaving without having searched for her. There he was, moving back towards the light and the exit, before he struck his bell, a noise that rang around the room with a slight echo. As he did so, the man disappeared. Laurie blinked and rubbed her eyes, wondering if she had just seen things, but the man was truly gone. It was as if he had never been there, the room suddenly just empty. Had he thrown himself down to hide, an attempt to deceive her into walking out into the open? Laurie carefully slipped her hand in a crate and grabbed a lump of coal. She lobbed it across the room, listening to it skitter across the ground. Nothing came for it. The coast was apparently clear.

Laurie decided to keep some coal, putting it inside the medical kit. There was a chance she could use it as fuel for the lamp. She retrieved her light source and looked all around the room, but there was nothing within sight. Laurie was well and truly alone. She exhaled slowly, relaxing her shoulders and wandering towards the tower’s entrance. Now that she was standing somewhere relatively safe, the darkness outside looked far worse. Still, she had a rough idea of where the estate house was and she was determined to find a working phone there, if one still remained. She set off down the pathway, lamp swaying from side to side in her hand. There were broken pieces of machinery, presumably for transporting heavy minerals, though none of them had been used for a many number of years. Wherever she shone the lamp, Laurie received glimpses of grey shapes that called out from the gloom, crippled memories of a once perfectly functioning quarry.

Although her vision was bad, she kept going in a straight line, certain that this was the way she needed to go. Laurie was shaking as she walked past jutting shards of metal that looked like ominous shapes against the flickering light of the lamp’s flame. She also no means of telling the time; there was an eerie black sky hanging in the sky above her, but Laurie couldn’t say for sure when the moon would set and let the sun rise. In the distance, she could see a few rows of flat buildings up ahead. They stayed low to the ground as if weighed down by something far more pressing. Regardless, Laurie approached, wondering if these were more storage houses with useful items inside.

She circled around until she saw an entrance to one of the buildings. Once more, the doors had been ripped off of their hinges, either by rot or something far more sinister. There was something eerily terrible about this place, a sadness that Laurie couldn’t understand. She held the lamp closer to her body, relishing in the small amount of warmth it emitted. Laurie stepped through the doorway, finding herself in a cramped, narrow hallway. In truth, she wanted to leave. She wanted to walk away as fast as she could and forget about the whole ordeal. Instead, she forced herself to press onwards, pushing open the first door she neared, a creak erupting and cutting through the previous silence. Inside, there were several bunkbeds, tattered thin blankets spread across them and metal frames rusted. It was dusty and dirty, having been abandoned for a long time. There were about four bunk-beds inside, an attempt to fit eight people in this single, small room. Laurie could already tell that the conditions of this place weren’t good and the appearance reminded her of barracks. Who had lived here and where were they now?

She turned around and saw someone heading straight towards her. Laurie’s fighting instincts kicked in and she lashed out with her free hand, fist connecting with her attacker’s jaw. He cried out, staggering backwards and against the doorway as Laurie prepared her next attack.

“Wait, wait!” the voice that called out to her, accompanied by hands shielding the stranger’s face, was not that of someone threatening.

Laurie lowered the lamp enough to see that a boy around the same age as her was cowering in fear, clutching his jaw and looking at her with wide, frightened eyes, like a deer’s. She slowly exhaled her rage, keeping a safe distance and watching the boy carefully.

“You pack a punch,” he laughed nervously, taking the opportunity to stand upright.

He was tall and lanky, with big, square glasses that covered a large portion of his face. His thick eyebrows were furrowed in stress, fear and a little confusion. His dark hair was cut short, but looked soft to ruffle, like a duck’s tail. There was something about him that made Laurie want to trust him. It was possibly the innocent aura that radiated off his entire person, or maybe it was the soft, chocolate brown of his eyes that reminded her of Bennett Tramer and his appealing hazel ones.

“What were you doing sneaking up on me like that?” she had to scowl now, releasing her momentary fear as flushed embarrassment.

“I didn’t mean to,” he held his hands up defensively. “I thought you heard me. Honest. I really didn’t mean to scare you.”

Laurie wanted to be grumpy, but there was genuine sincerity in his tone. She allowed her tense muscles to relax and she eased out of her fight or flight adrenaline rush.

“I’m Dwight, by the way,” he thrust his hand out towards her, an awkward smile appearing on his face, and he adjust his glasses. “Dwight Fairfield.”

“Laurie Strode,” she cautiously shook his hand, before the two of them parted ways.

“See you found a light source,” he gestured nervously. “I, uh… didn’t.”

“Do you know where we are?” Laurie asked, hoping to change the subject and ward away the strange awkwardness that had clouded between them.

“I… _really_ wish I could tell you,” he grimaced. “To be perfectly honest, I was hoping you’d know since… you _seemed_ like you knew where you were going and…”

He trailed off, so Laurie decided to glance around the room just one more time. He was the only other person here, so she supposed she ought to be trying to keep the conversation going, but she could tell he was nervous and the feeling was spreading to her.

“I don’t suppose you know the way out of here?” he asked timidly.

“Unfortunately not,” Laurie’s mouth twisted. “I woke up in the forest.”

“Really?” she turned towards him, hearing the surprise in his words. “So did I.”

“By the campfire?” she prompted.

“Yeah,” his eyes shone with recognition. “One minute I was with my colleagues, drinking that shitty moonshine and, well, whatever. I woke up at the campfire. Like, teleported, or something.”

“Hyperdrive,” Laurie automatically said and immediately regretted it.

Annie and Lynda had always been telling her to talk less Star Trek and more Grease in order to get boys to understand her. It wasn’t like she _didn’t_ like John Travolta’s beautiful, bright blue eyes and roguish smile, but the adventures of Captain Pike were fascinating in their own-

“Time warp, factor seven,” he instantly quoted and she found herself smiling at him.

Laurie then noticed his long, dark lashes, the dimples that formed on his face now that he was smiling and his high cheekbones. His glasses had deceptively taken up a large portion of his face, but she could see the slight square of his jaw in the dim light of her lamp and he a strong, straight nose.

“Except a little less cool,” he breathed out a nervous laugh.

Immediately, Laurie looked at her feet, because her face felt hot and she didn’t know what to say next. Some part of her wanted to completely nerd out, but at the same time she was worried that it was only one reference he’d picked up on.

“You wouldn’t mind if I tagged along, would you?” he began once more and, when she looked up at him, he was twiddling his thumbs. “I’ve had a few restless nights and all, and it’s been a relief to finally have met someone else here, other than… whatever.”

“There’s someone else here?” Laurie shone the light around.

“Sort of,” he said, then groaned in frustration. “I don’t know. He doesn’t seem that nice and I’m not even sure if he’s real.”

“Does he carry a bell?” Laurie asked quietly.

“Yeah, he does,” wonder appeared on Dwight’s face. “How did you know?”

“I’ve seen him,” Laurie said. “Probably about half an hour ago. He just vanished from sight so I thought _I’d_ imagined things, too.”

“Some sort of ghost,” Dwight murmured.

“I think sticking together is the best plan,” Laurie nodded.

“You have no idea how much I appreciate that,” he blew out a breath. “Laura, was it?”

“Laurie.”

“Ah, sorry, _Laurie_ ,” he swallowed nervously.

“I don’t know if this is much of a game plan, but there’s a big manor house up on the hill that I was headed towards,” Laurie gestured in the direction she thought was right. “I just came across these… barracks, I want to call them. Yeah.”

“I’m up for whatever,” he lifted his shoulders. “That is, _going_ wherever.”

Laurie nodded and moved past him, back into the corridor of the barracks. There was definitely something solemn about this place that she couldn’t quite determine, but the longer she stayed, the heavier her heart felt. It was also bitterly cold, as if the warmth had been sucked out long ago. Her lamp shook in the wind once more when she reached the entrance of the barracks, looking out in the murk and gloom. She couldn’t hear the sound of a bell’s chimes, nor see the sticklike figure of the ghost both she and Dwight had admitted to spotting.

“Where direction did you come from?” she asked quietly, moving the lamp from side to side to check the shadows for any movement.

“That way,” Dwight pointed, a little off from the way she aimed to go, but not far off. “I’ve been hiding out in these barracks for the past few… sleeps.”

Laurie turned to give him a questioning stare.

“It’s usually night here,” Dwight looked uncomfortable. “I haven’t seen the sun as of yet, but… I’ve been exhausted at least five times, so… I suppose I’ve been hiding out here for around five days?”

The unspoken “ _maybe longer_ ” hung in the air between them, but Laurie chose not to pursue it.

“And do you feel tired now?” Laurie wondered how long _she_ had been here.

“No, I just woke up a few hours ago,” Dwight said. “I have a watch, so I use to count the hours. It’s helped a bit, but sometimes it stops moving and sometimes it skips forwards.”

“That’s weird,” Laurie murmured.

“I just think it’s broken,” Dwight continued as they began to walk. “If I had the proper tools, then I’d take a look at it, but I’ve been a bit hesitant about stopping for lengthy periods of time. Also, I’ve been so busy trying to fix that generator in the industrial building that I haven’t really thought about much else.”

“Generator?” Laurie squinted at him.

“I mean, it’s a little detour, but I could show you,” Dwight coughed nervously.

Laurie gestured for him to lead, which he did with a little hesitation. Following Dwight through the darkness made her feel edgy and vulnerable. What if the man who lurked in the darkness was able to spot them easier now that their group had grown? What if they were making too much noise? At the same time, it was a huge comfort to know she wasn’t alone. Dwight seemed to have had similar experiences to her, with the two of them being dragged to this same wooded area for reasons she had yet to discover.

In the distance, a two-storey building loomed into view, a foundry of some sorts. An old, metal staircase looped around the side, but looked more like loose scaffolding rather than something she’d want to walk up. A stormy night would probably send the stairs derailing from the side of the building, probably tearing half the wall away with it. A large chimney jutted out from one side, and the moon cast eerie shadows across the building’s façade. The last thing Laurie wanted to do was enter that building, but Dwight beelined straight towards it and she had little option other than to follow or abandon him. Obviously, she chose to stick with him.

Dwight pushed a door that barely stood upright out of the way, holding it aside for Laurie as they entered a large room with a big, hulking metal vat in the centre. Their feet clinked against the diamond plate stainless steel floor. Laurie kept sending glances at Dwight, wondering if the generator he had referred to was the large vat. Wind whistled through the cracked windows as Dwight navigated his way around the vat, revealing another generator like the one Laurie had seen earlier in the storehouse.

“Here,” Dwight rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“I saw one of those earlier,” she remarked, wandering closer.

With a sudden lightning reflect, Dwight pulled her back from the generator.

“Sorry,” he breathed out hastily, eyes wide like saucers. “I try to touch the generators as little as possible. What I mean is, that ghost man seems to know whenever I fiddle with it. He always arrives when I attempt to fix it.”

Laurie nodded, heart racing, before both of them looked at Dwight’s hand, still holding onto her wrist. His skin was a little rough, not from manual labour but more likely lack of a skin care routine. He jerked his hand away as if burnt.

“Is there a reason you’ve been tinkering with this?” Laurie peered at the generator, but didn’t dare touch it. “Do you know what they do?”

“No idea,” he remarked and flinched when she sent him a harsh, questioning stare. “I found this in the door.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. Dwight extended it towards her.

“Read it,” he prompted, and Laurie carefully took it from his fingertips.

The paper was old and yellowed, but thick and somewhat smooth and creamy in texture. It was a good quality paper, although it had thinned over the years compared to what it may have once been. It was ragged, having been torn feverishly from the book it had once belonged to.

‘ _XXV. In my explorations, I found that these strange machines were the key to my survival. The more light they produced, the closer I became to my freedom_.’

“What is it?” she peered at him.

Dwight gave a noncommittal shrug. “I’ve no clue. Someone must’ve left it there for people to read after. There’s, like, a small diagram drawn on the other side, giving some tips and tricks on how to rewire and repair the generators.”

Laurie turned it over and saw a crude drawing of the generators, rough and hatched in the ink pen used to write it. Some lines were smudged, but it was mostly clear, with small lines darting off with small explanations on the other side.

“I have no idea who wrote it, either, since I haven’t encountered anyone else whilst here,” Dwight explained. “All I know is that these generators are important for something, if this note’s right about them.”

“And the ghost doesn’t like us touching them,” Laurie handed the note back to him. “There must be a reason for that, and what better reason that these generators powering something?”

“That’s what I thought,” Dwight glowed with importance as he folded the page and put it back into his pocket.

“For which case, we need to work on repairing the generators as quickly as possible,” Laurie looked at the machine, sputtering in its poor, half-broken state.

Dwight nodded, growing paler and more hesitant with each second that passed. Just then, Laurie heard a noise. It was like a gravelly breathing, a distance off. Dwight seemed to sense it too, since he grasped Laurie’s wrist once more and pulled her along, motioning a finger to his lips. Laurie understood, letting Dwight lead her to the back of the building. He kept low, in a crouched walk, which Laurie did her best to mimic. In the distance, there seemed to be a wardrobe that Dwight was heading straight for.

Laurie cast a glance over her shoulder, seeing the hand of something reach out and touch the generator. Dwight pulled open the locker’s door and ushered Laurie inside, squeezing in beside her and closing the door. It was a tight fit, perhaps a little too close for comfort, but when she saw the apparition with its glowing eyes move better into view, she felt Dwight’s hold on her wrist tighten just a fraction. The ghost moved along, carrying its staff, made of a human spine and skull, and its skull shaped bell, heading towards the locker. Laurie held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut, leaning against the warmth of Dwight’s body.

When she opened them again, the man was standing less than a metre away from the locking, his head turned away from them. She could see his glowing eyes, his ragged breaths as he listened out for them- for what else could he be doing, standing on the same spot for what seemed like forever? Eventually, he retraced his steps, striking the generator with the staff he held, before wandering out of view. Dwight waited a long time before pushing open the locker and letting Laurie go.

“I think we should check out that manor house you talked about,” he croaked. “Rather than risk that thing coming back?”

Laurie nodded numbly, before letting Dwight guide her out of the back of the building.

“Which way?” Dwight was looking at her with wide, brown eyes, and kept casting glances over his shoulder in an attempt to see if the ghostly man had followed them.

Laurie glanced upwards and saw the distant shape of the manor house sitting atop its hill.

“That way,” she held the lamp upwards, and began to make a slow ascent towards the manor house.


	4. The MacMillan Estate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope everyone had a good Christmas and that they got most of the things they wanted! I didn't wake up until 11, so clearly my childhood has finally ended (I still shed tears to think it). No Spoilers but Santa got me lots of lovely gifts this year, even though we didn't leave him sherry and a mince pie. Now that Christmas has passed, though, is it still valid to watch _A Christmas Prince_ on repeat? It's simultaneously the best and worst film on Netflix, so if you haven't seen it, I would highly recommend it for a good laugh with your friends.
> 
> On that note, for those 18+ (or 21, if you live in America), there's quite a few good drinking games for _Christmas Prince_ , based solely on how predictable and tropey it can be. Again, would highly recommend. I might watch it one last time before the year ends. Watching Christmas films after Christmas is still valid, I hope.
> 
> I'm just looking forwards to 2019. This year was shit. I'll have a new one, please.

** LAURIE **

**The climb upwards was tiresome and left Laurie’s muscles aching.** She couldn’t speak for Dwight, but his laboured breaths told her a similar story. There were times when the hill was so steep that she had to dig her fingers into the damp earth, levering herself onwards with dirt beneath her nails. She always kept a hold of the lamp, though, and her medical kit swung lazily at her hip. There were no sounds of animals in the trees, just a rustling as the odd breeze swept along the lonely plains and down the hill, flattening grass in its path. A slight shiver passed along Laurie’s limbs, until she was confident she had reached the top of the hill. She passed a glance to Dwight, who panted beside her, offering her a shaky smile and trying his best to look unperturbed when she looked.

Laurie lifted the lamp a fraction higher, feeling the warmth of it radiating on her face. It barely illuminated the way, but she could see the shadowy silhouette of the manor house further up ahead. She could feel the slight hesitation of terror creeping into the pit of her stomach, but she forced herself to progress towards the big shadow up ahead. Her heart was slamming in her chest and her breaths clouded out before her mouth and nose in small plumes, short bursts of warmth that brushed loftily against her cheeks. The path crunched beneath her feet and she could see the glint of wrought iron gates against the little illumination the flickering lamp flame provided.

Dwight inhaled deeply, an effort to both catch up with his breaths, but also to steel his nerves as Laurie ran her hands along the bars and pushed them open with a long, low creak. It was a deafening noise in the previous silence, cutting through like a knife, but Laurie forced herself to move onwards towards the towering mansion just up ahead. The garden had been abandoned, with weeds taking over and previous flowers having wilted and crippled under neglect. Trees no longer looked lush and trimmed to perfection, instead straggly and sharp, as if their branches could slice red lines along your skin. It felt like the kind of scene you’d expect from a horror film, so Laurie’s adrenaline rush was beginning to kick in, the pounding of her heart telling her to run back down the trail and forget about the mansion entirely. However, something told her she was the brave member of her group and that Dwight was just putting on an act. Whenever she glanced at him, he could only offer her a wobbling smile of reassurance.

The mansion itself looked as run down as the rest of the buildings when Laurie lifted her lamp towards it. There were boarded up windows and shattered glass, with a portion of the roof caved in and some walls rotted away entirely. A big, bronze knocker with a snarling lion promised a better past, although the deteriorated present was all the mansion could give Laurie and Dwight. She brushed her fingers briefly along the cold metal, toying with the idea of testing it to hear the low, wooden knock echo around the mansion. She cast those thoughts aside and instead turned the handle, also bronze, pushing the door aside to reveal an entrance hall with a faded, dark carpet and a layer of dust coasting its entire surface. The floorboards creaked beneath her feet, with Laurie flinching at each noise. Very little light entered the house, but the stray window managed to filter in some pale moonlight through its grimy and dusty panes.

“This estate’s been long abandoned,” Dwight remarked. “I don’t think we’re going to find any help from here.”

Laurie nodded, dreams of a phoneline whisked away within a second. She reminded herself that technology wasn’t the only form of communication. There was plenty that could be done to signal aircrafts or catch the attention of potential passers-by. She didn’t intend to torch the place but, if it came down to it, Laurie was prepared to rid America of one more heritage site, if this place was even recognised as historical.

It was still deathly cold as Laurie wandered through the large hall and into an ornate dining room to the side. Tattered curtains shivered in the breeze from a broken window and the table was paled with a layer of dust. Laurie absently drew a smiling face, before wiping the dust on her jeans and moving on. There were plenty of unlit candles lying around the place, but Laurie didn’t dare light any of them until she had thoroughly explored the place. The thought of attracting the ghostly man was the last thing she wanted, and she was sure Dwight would agree with her. An old mirror showed their reflections, pale and frightened, but it was difficult to see over the dust and grime that had accumulated. A painting of a boat had almost near faded, but Laurie could appreciate the careful, intricate brush strokes of the deep blue sea, the last of the colours to remain in the bottom corner. She dared not touch it, for fear of the thin canvas wearing away beneath her fingers entirely.

In continuation of her tour around the house, Laurie moved to the next room, a peaceful sitting room that, ideally, would let in the afternoon sunset. She could envision it: a wealthy family eating their three-course meal before retiring to the sitting room as of an evening. It seemed so surreal to be standing in such a place and seeing it as a shadow of its former self, no acknowledgement from restoration and preservation and the likes. It was strange, really. Laurie believed this old factory estate would be ideal for historians to feast upon; there were so many unspoken memories that Laurie was unable to reach, despite the raw emotions that were probably very present at the time. The total abandonment of such a place spoke of an equally disturbing end, another factor that should’ve brought scholars here in droves.

Each room was covered in dust and there was no food in the kitchen and a dead rabbit hung from the shelves of the cool pantry. Laurie would rather not wonder how it got there, but could only assume that the ghostly man had perhaps taken residence in this once lovely house. The second living room was in an even worse state, having received the brunt of the morning sun, with faded sofas and carpets and curtains, and some of the walls had rotted away over time, letting in the cold air from a missing patch just above the boarded-up window. Exploring had soured after the rabbit, though, so she was quick to return to the entrance hall and swung her lamp towards a set of stairs that led down into darkness.

Careful, Laurie approached them and touched her foot to the top stair.

“I’m not sure about this,” Dwight spoke for the first time in ages. “I get a bad feeling from it.”

“It’s probably the basement,” Laurie turned to see him hovering a few paces back.

“I know, it’s just…” there was a look of uncertainty on his face that sent an unnerved buzz running through Laurie’s spine. “There’s just something not right about that place. Do you know what I mean?”

Fear of the dark. Claustrophobia. There were plenty of people who were just generally afraid of basements, which probably explained why Laurie couldn’t feel the same reservations that Dwight did. She could’ve offered to go alone, have a quick look and be up within moments, but Laurie already knew Dwight wouldn’t want her to go down alone, and she didn’t want to force him to go somewhere he’d be afraid. She made a mental note to explore the basement at some other given time, but for now, bobbed her head and retreated from the top of the stairs.

“We’ll check upstairs, then,” she decided and moved onwards. This time, Dwight followed like an obedient duckling.

Laurie didn’t like the stairs in this house. They creaked and groaned underfoot and she was constantly checking for rot in case the wood gave way beneath her and sent her crashing down into the darkness. There was more ruin on the upper floor, with walls almost entirely caved in and windows broken. Shattered glass littered the carpets and there had been some attempts to lazily board up the gaps, but it was brighter upstairs from the moonlight. With the ragged strips of rug that had been laid across the floor, Laurie and Dwight’s footsteps were soundless which was probably why, when she looked through the first open door on the hallway the man standing at the desk didn’t notice her at all.

She quickly motioned for Dwight to stop as she studied the figure standing up ahead. It wasn’t the same wraithlike form as before. This was someone who looked human, a baggy hoodie hanging from a lean, muscular frame, a large backpack hanging from his shoulders. Baggy dark jeans and trainers; he could’ve been any man on the planet. Was he a threat? Laurie couldn’t say for sure, but he didn’t seem to be armed. She shared a glance with Dwight, who wore a look of wide-eyed fear. Would he mind if she caught the man’s attention? What if this individual was dangerous? All the same, strength in numbers, and she didn’t want to risk abandoning someone to the mercy of a monster.

Laurie noisily cleared her throat and the man spun around on his heel, knife suddenly in hand and poised in front of him, ready to attack. He was a lot younger than she’d initially given him credit for, yet again a similar age to her. He was pale faced with dark shadows beneath eyes that were just as dark and bottomless. He had a tangle of sandy brown hair that threatened to fall in front of his eyes. There was something a little gaunt about him, but when she lifted her hands up in defence, the lamp swinging near her head, he lowered the knife and tucked it back into the waistband of his jeans. In a way that made her feel slightly uneasy, he looked her up and down before cramming his hands into his hoodie pockets and giving her a thin-lipped smile, an obvious attempt to cover his teeth and prevent him grinning at her.

“Hello,” Laurie croaked, hoping she hadn’t made a mistake in extending her kindness towards yet another unfortunate who happened to have been dumped in this strange place.

“Hi,” he tilted his head slightly in a way that made her feel yet more unnerved. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her with those endless eyes? Why did he remind her of Michael Myers? “I’m Frank.”

He was on the other side of the room, but he held his hand out towards her. It was such a mundane gesture, so Laurie steeled herself and crossed the room, shaking it. His skin was rough, calloused and she could see the odd scar on his hand. Laurie had to remind herself that he had a knife on person and that she had to be careful. She had been lucky to have met Dwight, who was so kind and warm, but this guy was cold, no matter how friendly he was trying to be. But that was the point, wasn’t it? He was _trying_ to be nice, so she was doing the same.

“Laurie,” she nodded to him, aware of how tall he was. Not towering, just tall. A little intimidating.

“And you?” Frank peered past Laurie towards Dwight, who was still hesitant at the doorway.

“Uh, Dwight.”

“Adwight?” Frank chuckled as Laurie wandered to the desk, seeing an old book laying open on the old desk.

Its pages were creamy and yellow, thick and its leather-bound cover was still mostly intact. A beautiful journal of some kind.

“It’s… er, _Dwight_ ,” Dwight said pointedly, crossing the room to stand beside Laurie.

“Edwight?” Frank continued.

Laurie recognised the handwriting on the pages, the sloping black ink and the Roman numerals used to number each entry.

“Do you still have that piece of paper?” Laurie turned to Dwight. “The one with the generator on it?”

Frank and Dwight snapped out of their moment of tension, both looking at Laurie. Fumbling, Dwight produced the folded page and handed it to her, before turning to stare down Frank.

“It’s _Dwight_ ,” he said. “D-W-I-”

“I was _kidding_ ,” Frank said in an almost sing-song voice.

“This is from the same journal,” Laurie tried her best to interrupt the awkwardness, hoping to bring facts and information in the fray. Bore them enough and they’d forget they were fighting, hopefully.

She more _felt_ rather than saw Frank lean over her to see what she was looking at, whereas Dwight joined her side and looked at the paper.

“Someone was writing a journal,” she mumbled, flicking through the pages.

Frank clicked his tongue, wandering further into the room. “It’s boring. Some old faggot writing about dumb shit.”

Dwight sent Laurie a look of distaste, which she exchanged, before the two of them looked towards Frank, stretching his arms up and looking out of the doorway. Shaking her head, she reached the first page, seeing an entry titled “12th September 1956”. Although only twenty years old, the journal looked far older, already yellowed and creamy, stained with age.

“I began my search in the summer of 1956 after hearing of the town of Weeks, a place that had an unusual number of missing persons reports. America is filled with such towns. But what made this one more odd than some was that there had been report of no body found. Indeed, the number of missing cases stood at a staggering 364, the last of which happened a mere ten weeks ago. Thus, I embark on my journey.”

The way her voice echoed around the room was a little eerie and as she flicked through the pages. There had been so many torn out, about a third of the pages. Laurie had to guess the journal had only had around seventy-five to begin with, but its new state had left it thinned out and somewhat pathetic.

“Just some explorations of this weird-ass town before the guy goes a little funny in the head,” she turned around and saw Frank’s entire demeanour had changed. He leant against the doorframe almost impatiently, his expression deadpan and serious. “Stopped writing the dates at around September before he tried to fill them in again in late October. I guess it got a little intriguing when he starts talking about some weird ‘Entity’, or whatever he called it. Truth be told, the man was going insane. I was reading the last entries when you two arrived. They’re the most interesting, trust me.”

His sudden sincerity had piqued her interest. Laurie turned the journal pages to the last entry, although not the last page.

“My travels have revealed four, hellish places, connected by one true evil,” Laurie began, before glancing at Frank.

“The Entity,” he filled in.

Laurie nodded and turned her head back. “Each one features a past so violent and disturbing that it all ends up in a jumble of things I can never forget. In this places of such foul thought, something lurks between the fabric of what we know as real and the dream world. Awoken by violence, it touches the world, calling the killers and survivors to it.”

The author had capitalised both ‘Killers’ and ‘Survivors’.

“Yeah, he did write some weird crap about murderers being tortured to murder,” Frank added with a dismissive hand. “I suppose you could read it in more detail, but he does go on.”

She read the rest in her head. ‘ _The more it pulls from the real world, the stronger it becomes and the more it spreads. I came seeking answers, but I drown in riddles instead. I know not how long I will be able to carry on. I have all the time in the world, but only during the small pauses that-_ ’

“November 1896?” Dwight interrupted, already on the next passage below. “I thought this guy was writing in the fifties.”

“I already told you, he went mad,” Frank grumbled.

Laurie skipped to the last entry. “Death is not death. In this place, life is fleeting. To whomever might find this lore, I can only but provide you with one advice: always move forward. This is what keeps me alive and has so for a while. If I were to advise further, I would suggest you harvest every forsaken location for anything that might thwart the horrors that lurk within and keep an eye on the gates. If they open, you must flee. I hope my scribbles have not been in vain. If you find this lore, making use of it and pass it on. If you find me, bury my body. B. Baker.”

“I don’t know about a Weeks, but there’s a Wethersfield in Connecticut, which I think he may be talking about when he mentions ‘Wetherfield’,” Dwight pointed out.

“Connecticut…” Laurie murmured with a furrowed brow. “That’s an entire day’s drive from Illinois.”

“About the same for me, except from Florida,” Dwight frowned. “How the Hell did we end up in Connecticut?”

“Count yourselves lucky,” Frank scorned. “I’m supposed to be in Canada.”

“That’s a long way,” Laurie glanced between the two young men. “And yet we’ve all been brought back to the same place.”

“Weeks had been abandoned by the time Baker got there,” Frank explained. “The entries talked about some place called the ‘MacMillan Estate’, which was connected to the mining industry. If think that’s where we’re currently at.”

“Maybe Baker kidnapped us all?” Dwight suggested.

Laurie looked over at Frank, who was watching them with his dark eyes. “Did you wake up by a campfire?”

For the first time, Frank didn’t seem in control of his emotions. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

“How did you know?”


	5. Plan Of Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a good New Year! I did, and I hope 2019 brings everyone what they wish!

** LAURIE **

**At first, she wasn’t sure how to answer that, and her hesitation robbed her of the chance to answer at all.** There was a sudden noise, the slamming of a door in the distance, accompanied by the thundering, low noise of footsteps clambering up the stairs. All three of them stilled, as if hoping they had imagined the noises, but it was clear as day that a fourth person was in the MacMillan mansion with them. The footsteps weren’t light or timid in the slightest, but instead powerful, as if little was to be feared. For some reason, it was the confidence in the steps that worried her the most and she found herself grabbing the notebook and stuffing it into her first aid kit. Laurie told herself she would need it later, maybe for a quick read-over, despite Frank’s own summary of the book. After that, she was already following Frank of the room, despite Dwight’s hissed protests. The confidence in the footsteps implied their location was already known, so there was little point in hiding.

She found herself staring down the hallway at the large, hulking figure in the distance. A bearlike man had wandered into the centre of the hallway from the stairs. At first, her heart stopped in her chest when she caught sight of the white mask and the black holes for eyes. She could feel a light sweat on her palms and a cold shiver travelled through her whole body. Laurie had to shake herself, though, because this man was clearly not the deranged killer who had targeted her and her friends last night. He was far more heavyset and, based on what she was looking at, a little shorter. His mask was much more different, too, strapped on to his face and with smaller eyeholes. Jagged teeth lined the gaping mouth of the mask. He was carrying an ominous cleaver that was stained with an awful rust red. She watches his shoulders move as he inhaled and exhaled, thick neck turning towards them as they stood in plain sight. There were jagged pieces of metal sticking out of his back and arms, a painful thought, but he seemed unperturbed, tanned skin riddled with scars and red marks. Whoever this man was, he was looking towards them and Laurie knew he couldn’t be good news.

Frank was the first to move, the squeak of his sneakers against the wooden floors an indication that it was run or die. Laurie didn’t wait to see if the man would chase them. Instead, she took off after Frank, with Dwight just on her heels. Frank flew further down the hallway, stopping short of a broken window. For a moment, he was paralysed, and Laurie almost crashed into him if it weren’t for catching her own momentum. Outside, she saw murky darkness, the swaying branches of a nearby tree. Laurie couldn’t help but panic when Frank vaulted beyond the pane, crashing into the branches. Although she floundered for a moment, Laurie could see the man stomping closer and Dwight’s pale face as he waited in line to jump.

Bracing herself, Laurie hauled her leg over the window and launched herself towards the tree. The first of the branches cut into her skin, and then she was scraped from all sides, crashing down towards the ground. Strong arms clasped around, half lifting her, half letting her feet hit the ground with a dull thud. Laurie let herself get pulled back, hearing the cracking of twigs as Dwight threw himself into the bushes down below. Laurie was quick to disengage from Frank, craning her neck upwards to see the shadowy silhouette of the masked man grinning down at the three of them. Shadows were cast across his mask in the most unsettling way, but Dwight was grabbing her arm and pulling her along before she could fully process what had happened or who the man was. Her legs were carrying her without complaint, through the tangled underbrush of the gardens in the MacMillan estate and back out the metal gates. She felt like she was being chased away by something far more sinister than a man in a mask, blindly scrambling down the hill with both Frank and Dwight in tow. She was struggling to catch any breath for her lungs, crashing past trees until she ran out into the open.

The ground was dusty beneath her feet, scattering in small clouds as she staggered towards an industrial site. There was a large, wooden entranceway built into the side of another hill, lit by two lamps on either side. Laurie could see iron tracks leading within, although the darkness didn’t go far. A large portion of the mineshaft seemed to be caved in, rockfall completely obscuring the way. She could feel chills just looking at it, slowing to a stop as she glanced towards a large warehouse where the iron tracks led to. A watchtower stood sentinel behind, although its wooden frame looked unreliably weak. Laurie came to a stop, feeling a cold presence all of a sudden as Dwight and Frank caught up to her.

“What is this place?” Dwight murmured, rubbing his arms as he gazed all around. “Some kind of mineshaft?”

“The MacMillan Estate’s mineshaft,” Frank recalled, dark eyes flicking wildly all over the place, as if searching for something. “I say we got to the watchtower. We might see something useful.”

“What if we get cornered in it?” Dwight asked through gritted teeth.

“They’re not psychic,” Frank already began making his way towards the rickety tower.

“There could be a radio signal there,” Laurie realised and began to follow. It was only when she agreed that Dwight reluctantly trailed after.

Laurie kept glancing over one shoulder just to make absolute sure that they weren’t being followed. It wouldn’t be especially useful to go into the watchtower only to be followed up immediately. Frank was the first to the ladder, which was missing some rungs.

“I’m not sure about this,” Dwight eyed up the structure suspiciously.

“If you’re too much of a pussy, you’ll die,” Frank began to climb. “Laurie’s right, though. If there’s a radio signal, we’re getting out of here in no time.”

“We won’t be in there long,” Laurie assured him, trying to ease the stress from his chocolate eyes.

“If you’re sure,” Dwight lowered his voice, enough to hide his words from Frank, who ascended into the fog. “I’m not really sure about this guy.”

“Neither,” Laurie cast a glance upwards. “But it’s not like he’s trying to kill us. As much as I hate to say it, I think it’s best that we try and stick together.”

Dwight blew out a breath. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I was just gauging.”

He then gestured for her to take the lead, which she did. Balancing her lamp in her fingers, Laurie began to make an awkward climb up the ladder. It was strained in places where she needed to stretch her limbs, but once she was at the top, a sense of relief washed over her. She was suddenly high up and far away from her problems and possibly one step closer to getting home. Without looking down, for she already knew that would be a bad idea, Laurie hurried through the watchtower’s door, which Frank had left open. He had already made himself comfortable in a padded chair propped up against the desk. There wasn’t much in the watchtower; there wasn’t even a large light to shine over the surrounding area. There was something incredibly old fashioned about this place, as if it couldn’t belong in the 1970s.

“Radio doesn’t work,” Frank remarked and demonstrated, releasing a crackly noise throughout the room, a morbid static that near deafened Laurie. “Looks like we won’t be getting the authority’s attention.”

“Well, that’s just great,” Dwight threw his hands up in despair. “Now what?”

“Personally, I’m heading off,” Frank kicked off from his chair and sauntered across the room towards the open door. “You two are welcome to join.”

“Why can’t we just stay here?” Laurie asked. “We have the advantage of height, which would stop anyone reaching us or trying to get up here.”

Frank hesitated, as if considering his options, before he lifted his shoulders. “I have friends out there. They might need my help.”

“You… came here with other people?” Dwight looked alarmed.

“Maybe you’ve seen them?” Frank glanced at them both. “The guy’s black, black hoodie, dark jeans. Called Joey. The type of guy who’s more friendly than you expect him to be. There’s Susie, who’s a bit ugly. Braces, bright pink hair, if you get me. And Julie. Gorgeous girl, but wears a superior, kinda stuck up look.”

“I haven’t seen anyone else here other than you two,” Laurie admitted, and Dwight nodded to show his support. “But that doesn’t mean they’re here.”

“Suze blanked out before I did, so I’m more than certain they’re here,” he almost looked remorseful as he stared out the window. “I’ve been looking for them for about a week now, but there’s been no signs. I can’t let them die out there, since…” He paused, mulling over his words, before shrugging. “I just can’t.”

“Then, we’ll come with you,” Laurie said and immediately knew she ought to regret it.

“We will?” Dwight glanced between Laurie and Frank with wide, brown eyes.

“I wouldn’t feel right letting you go alone,” Laurie said, striding across the watchtower towards the door. “Besides, since there’s no radio, there’s no means of contacting anyone. We’d only be waiting to get found.”

Dwight breathed out a heavy sigh to let her know he disagreed with her choices, but he followed none the less. Frank pulled himself over the lad and began climbing down, shooting Laurie a savage smile that only seemed to extend the dark shadows beneath his eyes. When she followed, the rusted iron ladder was rough beneath her hands and flecks of metal dusted away onto her palms. A chilling breeze washed over her, pushing her hair into her face, and she had to ignore it, for fear of falling. The world around her was so dark, but she forced herself to climb further down into the danger, feeling the light sweat build on her hands.

It felt like a lifetime before they reached the bottom, and her hands were a little sore from clinging so tightly to cold metal. Dirt and stone crunched beneath her feet and she leapt away from the ladder, giving Dwight space to get down. Quickly, she turned in a full circle, raising the lamp in an attempt to expand her vision of the surrounding area. It barely lit anything up, only casting a warm, comforting glow on the three of them.

“Where do you think your friends would be?” Laurie asked.

“Beats me,” Frank lifted his shoulders nonchalantly. “But this place is only so big. I’ve seen the walls around the perimeter and I reckon there’s a switch or something that can help us escape.”

Laurie shared a brief glance with Dwight, hidden in the darkness. The slight nod of his head was enough to convince her that telling Frank was a good idea.

“There’s these generators dotted around,” Laurie spoke up and Frank turned to her with a quizzical expression. “One of the pages of that old journal was torn out and attached to one of them. It told us that the generators would help us escape from the MacMillan estate, but we’d have to try and activate them all.”

“I’ve hotwired a car before,” Frank itched the back of his head. “Do you think the mechanisms would be the same?”

Laurie felt rather than saw Dwight send her a pointed look, but she chose to ignore him.

“I’m sure there’s some similarities,” she laughed nervously. “There’s a catch with the generators, though. Every time we touch them, one of those… _men_ with weapons arrives.”

“Like there’s cameras near the generators?” Frank suggested.

Laurie hadn’t even considered that. What if, this whole time, there were cameras dotted around watching their every movements acting as a tracking device to keep them in check? She shuddered, glancing all around on instinct, but she couldn’t see a single lens watching them.

“Mind you, it could be this ‘Entity’ thing that the journal writing whack-job wrote about,” Frank shrugged.

  1. Baker. Laurie suddenly realised it was still in her medical kit, which she hastily rummaged through. The small leather cover reached her fingers and she pulled it out. Automatically, Frank reached for it and she handed it to him without question. He may have had a questionable background, but Laurie was confident he could help them escape this nightmare estate.



“Here,” Frank paused after flipping a few pages, easily navigating his way through the book now that most of the pages had been torn out. “He writes about these killers or whatever. ‘XXVI. Each killer seems to have been pulled from a place of great darkness, their own violent actions summon this most ancient of evils from its slumber. The Entity reaches out, taking them into the place between worlds where it demands they do its bidding. They must hunt and kill the prey set in front of them. Some go willingly, others need to be convinced. The Entity tortures them until they are much less human and far more thing, until the last light of humanity has faded from their souls and they take up their weapons and sacrifice the survivors. The killers are needed to feed the Entity with the hope that keeps it alive. I am a pawn in the parasitic charade’.”

“I want to say this guy has no chill, but he might just be our ticket out of this place,” Dwight pursed his lips. “He’s saying the Entity controls a bunch of mass murderers, but what has that got to do with the generators?”

“It’s like this Entity is telling them where to go, as if it’s watching us,” Frank gaped upwards at the sky, but it was only a seething, roiling mass of dark clouds that threatened to pour rain over them.

Again, it was hardly an image that Laurie wanted to think about, that some unseen creature was watching them from the shadows, but a part of her wasn’t even sure if she believed this creature B. Baker talked about was real. There was an unhinged element to his words, as if he believed he had been pitted in some gladiator style arena. Laurie couldn’t help but wonder if the Entity was a figment of Baker’s imagination gone horribly wrong.

“So, no matter what we do, this Entity can send one of these… “killers’ to us?” Dwight looked as uncertain as Laurie felt.

“It makes sense, though, doesn’t it?” Frank’s face lit up as he deposited the journal back into Laurie’s hands. “If there’s some higher power pulling the strings, then the mechanics of this world are all based around someone- or some _thing_.”

“The… Entity?” Laurie frowned.

“Basically,” Frank said. “Which means, no matter what we do, we’ll always be avoiding these killers.”

“That just seems too farfetched,” Dwight shifted uncomfortably. “What kind of psycho would go so far as to confine a bunch of innocent people in close quarters with… murderers?”

“Beats me,” Frank shrugged. “If you don’t believe me, you don’t believe me, but something tells me this guy only lived so long because he knew about this Entity.”

“I think what disturbs me most is this whole idea of “sacrifice”,” Laurie flipped open to the page once more and studied it closely. “Sacrifice of survivors, who I assume means us. It’s like a weird cult.”

“It could be, though,” Dwight interjected. “A cult makes a lot more sense than an omniscient monster.”

“Unless this cult worships the Entity,” Frank explained. “Bring a little paranormal into your life, Edward.”

“Are you seriously asking if I believe in ghosts now, of all times?” Dwight frowned uncomfortably. “Also, it’s Dwight.”

Laurie thought of the man with the bell, with his barely present body and his sudden disappearance right before her eyes. She absolutely didn’t believe in ghosts, but she couldn’t deny that the bell man had vanished from sight without a single trace. It would be equally possible for some paranormal being, labelled a deity by a cult, to exist in the same area as other ghosts, even though she so wished she could vehemently deny it.

“I guess what I’m _trying_ to say is that, no matter how we go about these generators, someone’s always going to know when we do decide to fix them,” Frank said. “I think there’s some freaky demon shit going on here and the sooner I get out, the better.”

“And you think your friends are beyond the gates?” Laurie asked.

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugged. “And if the generators open the gates, then I don’t see why we shouldn’t take a risk.”

Laurie looked at Dwight, who had stiffened into a tense, uncertain poise. She wanted to be able to reassure him, but Laurie couldn’t find the words to say. Equally, she didn’t want to pressure him into finding the generators, given how fearful the pair of them had been when hiding in the locker. Frank hadn’t come face to face with the ghostlike bell bearer, but Laurie knew he’d be a little more hesitant about approaching the generators if he _had_ seen him.

Still, she knew that wandering around aimlessly would only get them killed. Inactivity was the quickest way to die in these kinds of situations, for Laurie knew her instincts to run and attack had kept her alive the night of Halloween. It was all a question of whether they wanted to die fighting or flighting.

“Other than our lives, we have nothing to lose,” Dwight heaved out a sigh. “But before we even think about approaching one of the generators, we need a plan of action. I don’t want to blindly go in there and be massacred like lambs to the slaughter.”

Frank clasped his hands together. “Fine, we’ll have a plan. Someone keeps watch whilst the other two work on the generator. The moment something weird happens, we book it.”

“That’s it?” Dwight paled. “That’s our plan?”

“Simple but effective,” Frank grinned. “And if it fails, we die.”


	6. Hunted Becomes the Hunter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How is 2019 already so stressful? I'm using writing as an escape method but I can already feel anxiety and it's not fun. I have too many essays. They need to leave me alone :(

** LAURIE **

**It had been agreed that Dwight and Frank would be the ones working the generator, since both had had practice tinkering with machinery and wires.** Laurie, on the other hand, had generally steered clear of mechanics, and had therefore been put on watch. Frank had warned her of how vital her job was, which hadn’t helped soothe her nerves in the slightest. Now that the stakes had been raised, Laurie was feeling the pressure, wild eyes darting back and forth across the terrain in search of any sight of movement. The lamp had been taken from her to give Dwight and Frank better vision of the generator and the cold bit at Laurie’s exposed skin. She was sorely missing her light source, given she had had it pretty much from the beginning. Sure, she had only been on the MacMillan Estate for a few hours, but paranoia had long since taken her sense of rationality.

It would’ve been nice to have had a jumper, but such luxuries weren’t rewarded to Laurie. She had left it at Tommy Doyle’s house and had never had the chance to have gotten it back after being rushed to the hospital. She was feeling the cold and it was putting her on edge. Every small rustle of leaves made her jump and each time the wind snapped a brittle branch from a dead tree she almost shouted to the other two that a murderer was on the way. She wished she wasn’t so on edge, but given the grave danger they were in, perhaps her paranoia would heighten her senses enough to spot danger from a far distance. Laurie was on red alert, glancing all around in search of a shadowy wraith of a man or a scarred monster in a mask.

There was a loud snap in the distance. Laurie turned to look at Dwight and Frank, who had recoiled from the generator, a plume of smoke rising from its mouth. It choked a little, churning out smoke, before sputtering back to life and trundling on its way.

“What did you do?” Dwight demanded of Frank.

“ _Nothing_ ,” he insisted. “It was _you_. Why don’t you step back, kid, and let me handle this?”

“I’m not a kid,” Dwight said pointedly. “I’m twenty. Not even a teen anymore.”

Frank snorted. “Seriously?”

But he didn’t press the matter further. Dwight huffed out a sigh of irritation before hunching back over the generator to pull at wires and plug them into a new spot. Laurie soon lost interest, wrapping her arms around herself and gazing out into the darkness once more. Her teeth were chattering and her limbs were shaking, so she tried to warm herself up. According to B. Baker’s journal, the killers were supposed to arrive once the generator was touched. Of course, there was a chance he was wrong and deliriously writing, but Laurie had her own reservations.

There was another loud bang and an enraged cry erupted from Frank’s throat. Laurie spun around to see Frank swiping at Dwight with fist, only for the later to dance away with an agility Laurie would never have credited him.

“You don’t know how these things work, so back off,” Frank snapped.

“ _You’re_ the one who’s fucking it up,” Dwight straightened his spine but didn’t dare approaching the generator once more.

Laurie held the beautiful chime of a bell. It was a sorrowful sound, a low chime that resonated through her bones and echoed through her soul. She could feel the hairs on her arms rising, a prickling of her skin as the bell’s song chorused through her veins. It was almost a dazzling noise, one that brought about an odd sense of comfort whist also striking a note that roused fear bubbling from within. She was frozen to the spot, feeling the ring shake through her body. Still, she turned slowly but surely, small movements that brought her in a half circle towards a ghostly form that stood directly before her.

The glowing eyes of the bell ringer bored into her and she could hear the low gurgles of each breath he took. Laurie felt frozen with fear, which wasn’t something she was normally struck down with. Often, she had the ability to sprint for miles in an effort to preserve herself, but in this moment she understood she was standing before death and, if she were turn her back, she would most assuredly die. Instead, she watched with a strange numbness, the world odd and slow around her, as the bell ringer raised the stiffened spine with a skull attached to its neck high above his head. In the distance, she could hear the dulled out cries of Dwight as he yelled her name, before the bell ringer bashed her round the head with his weapon.

For a moment, everything went black and Laurie’s knees buckled beneath her. She hit the damp earth and felt an odd warmth in the side of her head. Her limbs were heavy and stiff, but her body felt featherlight when she was lifted up into the air. She dangled, weightless, and her vision returned, heavily blurred as she saw colours and shapes drift into one another like paint blended with water. A wave of nausea rushed over her, but she swallowed it back down her thick throat. Her name was being called out in the distance, until she blinked back into reality. She was being carried on someone’s shoulder, their clothes ragged and smelling of damp earth and mildew. The bell ringer; she was being carried by the wretched bell ringer.

Through a sluggish haze, Laurie wriggled on his shoulder, feeling lethargic and confused. She was weakened and each beat of her fists against his back did nothing. Whenever she struggled, legs kicking, she couldn’t fend him off of her. She called for Dwight, but she was swimming in and out of consciousness. The blow to her head had been precise and blinding. Her head was aching terribly, and a dizziness had washed over her, blurring all thoughts that she tried to conjure in her head. Her strength was draining out of her and it felt like a blessing to close her eyes. She knew she shouldn’t want to drift away, but it would be an effective method to relieve the pain. A simple close of her eyes, and she would be released.

** MEG **

She crashed through the undergrowth, legs pumping beneath her like oil engine for a car. Sweat was running down her face, soaking into the hoodie she wore, despite the breathable top she wore and the sports leggings she had donned for this occasion. There was a blind panic racing through her veins, pumping rapidly through her heart. She had developed a stitch a very long time ago, a sharp pain that shot through her body with every leaping step she took. She was aching, since she hadn’t been able to get any form of rest. For her to have been through all this shit, only to be caught now, was not happening. Megan Thomas wasn’t going to die by the hands of a psychopath.

She vaulted over a log, winding her way speedily through the foggy forest, listening to the cries of ravens in the distance, their caws begging for her flesh. There were ominous cries emitted as well, strangled noises that were neither human nor animal. Whatever they were, Meg wasn’t eager to find out. In fact, she firmly believed that ignorance was bliss. If she could run from the danger, she had no qualms about doing otherwise. Running was a talent to Meg, who could keep going for miles on end. There was nothing that could stop nor catch her once her feet were pounding against the ground. Each of her muscles were working to keep her alive.

Meg had been in these woods for a very long time. At first, she had been a quiet lamb, following a shepherd as he guided her through the woods and instructed her of what to do. However, he had been brutally murdered, strung up on a hook like a slaughtered cow, choking on his own blood as he told her to run. She had been running ever since, for her own fears kept her from going through the gates that would lead to her freedom. Gate after gate she had crossed, yet she felt the end was never in sight. Meg had long since lost track of time, but it had been quite a while since she had lapsed into isolation.

Throwing herself down, she scrambled to the base of a tree, crawling into its hollow and holding her breath. She heard the revving a chainsaw before she saw the attacker stagger into view. He was a large man, standing over six feet, wearing a yellow apron with a mess of curled dark hair on his head. Meg kept very still, daring not to make a single noise, to not even breathe. If she made a noise now, she was going to die.

When he turned his head to one side, she couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her lips, snapping his attention directly towards her. It was because he wore a mask made entirely out of human skin.

** LAURIE **

When she woke up, it was to Dwight’s concerned and caring expression. At first, her vision swam and she had to battle off the next ongoing wave of nausea. She wasn’t sick, though. She fought it off and squeezed her eyes shut past the headache. When she reached up to touch the wound, Dwight caught her hand and lowered it down to the bed.

“Try not to touch it,” he said kindly. “You should be in hospital, technically, but… we don’t have a hospital.”

“Am I dead?” Laurie had to ask, fighting off the cotton that had filled her skull.

“No, you’re not,” he looked relieved as he said it. “We managed to escape the Wraith.”

“The… Wraith?” Laurie squinted at him.

“You know, the guy with the bell,” Dwight looked embarrassed. “We managed to trip him up and wrestled you from him. The concussion you got wasn’t terrible but it definitely would be something I’d preferred to have checked. How do you feel?”

“A little ill,” she said and he shot her an alarmed stare. “But I’m not going to be sick. Just feel it. Dizzy, too.”

She tried to sit up. Her head swam and she winced, feeling the warmth of a bandage wrapped around her head. Dwight leaned forward and helped her into a seated position. Laurie swallowed the nausea back once more. She finally had the chance to see around the room, a dusty place with bunk beds. Laurie recognised it as the barracks of the mineworkers, and Frank was sitting on the opposite side of the room, flicking idly through the yellowed pages of B. Baker’s journal. The room was deathly silent as Laurie focused on her breathing until the pain dulled. She closed her eyes until the pounding diminished and she sighed out her dizziness. Opening her eyes once more, both of the boys were watching her.

“What happened?” she asked.

“The Wraith grabbed you and began taking you somewhere,” Dwight explained. “He had a purpose, a direction, but he never reached his destination, we think. I tackled his legs and managed to momentarily trip him, which gave me the opportunity to pull you from his arms.”

“I fixed the generator,” Frank added.

Dwight pursed his lips, but whatever argument that lingered between them remained unsaid. Laurie didn’t want to press. She was too tired to reinitiate the conversation, particularly as it would end in the next predictable spat between Dwight and Frank. Since she didn’t have the energy to deal with that, she decided not to ask.

“You went unconscious for a bit, so we took you here,” Dwight finished. “You haven’t been out long, thankfully. The blow to your head was quite bad, but it could’ve been a lot worse. If I had any water, I’d give you some.”

Laurie breathed out a short laugh, nodding slowly. She was still on edge and her head was a little fuzzy, but she had a clear memory of everything that had happened before she fell unconscious. Although Dwight was right about her possibly needing a check-up at the hospital, she hadn’t blacked out for long, nor had she been physically ill. Although a little more malevolent than a mild concussion, Laurie believed it wasn’t anything to worry about. She would probably feel perfectly normal within a few days.

“We need to think about fixing the next generators,” Frank interjected.

“She’s only just woken up,” Dwight cast him an irritated stare.

“It’s OK,” Laurie said. “The sooner we move, the better.”

Frank nodded towards her. “Do we know the locations of any other generators?”

“There’s definitely one at the storehouse,” Laurie croaked, pushing further away from the bed, ignoring the next dizzy spell that washed over her. “That may be the furthest one from here. I would also suggest taking a look the coal tower and also back to the mines just in case if there’s generators there.”

“We’ll also need to find the gates the power leads to,” Dwight said, shooting Laurie a sympathetic glance. “Once we get through, we’re free.”

Suddenly, a glimmer of hope lit up in Laurie’s chest. “We’re looking at a total of around four generators. If we’ve fixed one, there’s three left.”

“Except it took having one of us brained in order to fix it,” Frank scowled. “There’s only three of us. We’ll only take so many hits before one of us dies. We got lucky this time. We’re going to need a bit more of a plan before we think about approaching any more generators.”

“Having one person on watch apparently doesn’t work with the Wraith lingering around,” Dwight groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “It seems able to teleport to wherever we are.”

“I’m not even sure if it’s a form of teleportation or not,” Frank said. “He hits the bell to appear or disappear, but what if he’s just turning invisible?”

“As in, he’s always there, just invisible?” Dwight frowned.

“You can’t find something invisible, though,” Laurie lifted her legs over the side of the bed and squeezed her eyes shut past the pain that throbbed in her head. “Unless you throw flour over them, but we’re kind of lacking in that.”

“I doubt that would do much, either way,” Frank said. “It seems somewhat unreal or… intangible whilst invisible. I’m not sure how to explain it, but it can definitely see us before it makes an appearance.”

“Could we lay a trap?” Laurie suggested. “As in, something that would give us more time to fix the generator and make an escape?”

“It’s possible,” Frank looked like he was contemplating the idea. “We’d need to think of some ideas of how to prevent the Wraith from reaching us easily, I think. If he has to see us in order to know where we are, I think it’s safe to say we can stall him with physical objects.”

“We’re not viewing him as a ghost, then?” Dwight frowned. “Because he does seem rather like a ghost to me.”

“He can’t go through things, as far as I’m concerned,” Frank explained. “If we can block off all accessible routes, then there’s a big chance we’ll be able to fix the generator without the Wraith being able to reach us.”

“Are you suggesting we barricade ourselves in the building?” Dwight looked incredulous. “That doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

“Unless you can think of another plan, I think using obstacles is our best bet,” Frank said. “We’d need a safe escape route, though, you’re right in that barricading ourselves would be stupid. A window is probably the safest choice, rather than a door, or, if we really need to, we can make our own escape route.”

“Like…?”

“Digging under the walls to make a burrow of some kind,” Frank said. “Not idea, because it might take too long to crawl under, but that could always be used as a last-minute possibility.”

“I think the ironworks is our best bet for finding obstacles,” Laurie said. “Now that the generator there is functioning, I doubt they’ll be able to break it into a state of disrepair once more. It also means we don’t need to worry about them using it to find us.”

“The space is very open, though, so we’d need to be careful of the Wraith spotting us at a distance,” Frank said. “It’s also very important that we listen out for the chime of his bell.”

“What about the other guy?” Dwight asked.

Laurie bit her lip, trying her hardest to think about the man with his smiling white mask.

“I’m going to guess he can’t go invisible,” Frank replied. “We’ll be able to see him just as he’d be able to see us.”

“We should probably also be careful of bear traps,” Laurie murmured and the two glanced at her. “I almost stepped on one earlier. It was all set up and ready for use, but the position was odd. At the time, I didn’t think someone had put it there on purpose, but I think one of the killers uses bear traps to catch and slow down people.”

“To make them easier to catch for sacrifices,” Dwight paled.

“In that case, always look at the ground,” Frank grimaced. “We’re lucky we haven’t stepped on one so far.”

“And with any luck, we’ll be able to find your friends, be they on this side or the other side of the gate,” Laurie said.

“Hm?” Frank seemed confused for a moment, before he nodded. “Yeah, of course. They can look after themselves anyway.”

“And then we can get through the gates once we’ve transferred enough power from the generators,” Laurie grinned. “We can escape.”

“In that case, we had better get collecting some obstacles,” Frank offered one of his savage, toothy grins.


End file.
